Star-Crossed
by Trinity Reloading
Summary: Two test subjects grow up to become Assassins. One for the need of their family, the other because it's the only way of life they've known. Once best friends, now mortal enemies. They're both fighting for what they need, and they will get it at any cost. Will their only weakness be love? Jake/OC
1. Prologue

June 14th 2009  
4:13AM  
Kijuju, West Africa

"We're meeting a spy. To get information on Wesker," Chris said quietly to his female counterpart, Sheva Alomar. The two newly formed couple were taking shelter for the night in a small shack in the centre of a village, situated in Kijuju.

"What do you mean a spy, who?" She replied putting down her hunting knife onto a dusty table and turning to face him, a quizzical look upon her face.

"Her name is Cassandra; she works for the Umbrella Corporation based in London, England." Chris said confidently, "She travelled all this way to pass on some information. Although, I should warn you she's quite young."

"How young are you talking?"

Before Chris had a chance to reply, another being opened the door to the shack the couple had taken refuge in. Both Chris and Sheva turned suddenly to see a person shrouded in a hood and cloak, who was short and petite, and was carrying a briefcase in one hand. Her posture was moderately still and professional, yet there was a hint of haste in her movements.

"I have all the information you want," She said in a rushed, but empty and monotone voice, "Now give me what I want!"

The couple shared a short glance before looking back at the young woman. Chris folded his arms in defence and said sternly,

"Show us your face,"

The woman sighed irritably, holding the briefcase tighter and pulling her hood down slightly.

"I want my information," She growled, completely ignoring his orders, "Otherwise, you don't get yours."

Sheva, realising the girl wasn't going to comply, looked down at the girls briefcase for a second, knowing that the information inside was some of the most valuable documents of their time. She paused for a second before reaching behind herself and picking up a briefcase of her own. Slowly, she placed it on the table, but didn't loosen her grasp on the handle. The woman did the same.

Not losing eye contact with each other, both females pushed their briefcases towards the other, reaching out as they did so. The woman in the cloak seemed a lot more eager and snatched the case she wanted off of the table, without a word, she turned her back on the couple and left the shack, slamming the door as she went.

Sheva cautiously opened the case, inside laid several documents, stating the whereabouts of Wesker. The papers documented everything they needed to know, where he would be, at what time and the best methods in order to take him down.

"Why did she give so much, for so little in return?" Sheva remarked, turning to look at Chris.

He looked back at her with certainty in his eyes,

"She's desperate for the answer."


	2. The Road to being a Mercenary

_(A/N ~ Hello! Emma &Steph here, we just want to let you know that this isn't really the beginning of the story; it's just more like the past of the story. If that makes sense… like, a second prologue (: This should give a little eye-opening for you all. Chapter 3 is where the real fun begins)_

**February 21****st**** 1998  
11:42AM  
Umbrella Corporations, Racoon City Underground Laboratory;**

_The Umbrella Corporation is a giant conglomerate which operates ruthlessly as a major international player in a number of markets; including pharmaceuticals and medical equipment along with top-secret operations utilizing genetic engineering and biological weaponry. The company also has a more benevolent public face for the ignorant masses, producing cosmetics, consumer products and foods._

My name is Jake. Today is my 6th birthday and my father has a surprise for me. He tells me I'm a very special boy and I will grow up to become one of his greatest possessions. I lay, naked, on a metal table in a dark room, covered only by a thin sheet of material. All I can see is the faint light from the computer screen on the other side of the room.

The cool steel was a sharp pain against my bare skin, but it wasn't anything compared to the pain of the needles, the endless needles.

It was strange, being able to listen to the pace my heart was beating at, the pounding rush in my ear. Looking over at the machine I was hooked up to, I realised I wasn't the only one who could hear it, as it beeped in unison with my pulse.

An overwhelming light suddenly appeared, it was above me and all around me. It was all I could see. Then, three doctors dressed plainly in white laboratory coats were at my side, all mumbling together, something about a virus. Then, the needles came again.

Without a moment's notice, I broke into a sweat, convulsing on the spot. My mind went numb and blank as the overwhelming burn in my veins took over. I could barely make out the shapes of the doctors, and just before my mind gave out, I heard one of them utter something in success.

I knew the voice the second it spoke, it was my father;

"His body accepted the C-Virus, this child we be of good use after all. Put him back in his room and bring out the girl,"

The girl? Does he mean Cassie?

I awoke from my bed with a startle; I noticed instantly that the sweat and pain had subsided. I could still feel a tingling sensation from where the needles had been inserted into both of my medial epicondyles. After I realised my arms were no longer strapped down, I itched them furiously.

With curiosity, I jumped down from my bed and wandered towards the open door. Quietly, I followed the hallway down and exited through some doors, out into the garden.

Looking around the greenery, I saw a small girl sitting on the grass underneath an apple tree. Her skin was ashen, almost dead in colour. Her hair was black, shiny and fell to her waist in cascading locks, almost touching the floor of where she sat, her full fringe almost covering her empty, glazed, moss-green eyes. When she heard the door close behind me, her head whipped up to face me, and only then did I realise she had been crying. Tears were stained against her face, and her cheeks were flushed, perhaps from the pressure of resting them on her knees.

It was Cassie.

She didn't smile, she didn't move, she just waited for me to approach her. Slowly, I walked in her direction, stepping over pansies which lined the pathways I refused to use. Making a direct beeline to her, I made no effort in losing eye-contact.

As I closed in on her, she opened her mouth as if to speak to me, but closed it again and looked away, sniffling slightly. I sat by her side with my legs crossed and took her gingerly by the hand, it was cold and lifeless, it was the one with the strawberry birthmark above the thumb. She looked back at me again, seemingly shocked by the contact, but nevertheless began grinning. This was the Cassie I knew.

"Happy Birthday Jake," She said in a small voice, keeping her smile intact, her tiny milk-teeth gleaming, "You're six now!"

"I know," I replied with an equally sudden grin, "I'm a whole year older than you!"

"We've got matching marks, look!" She retorted, hodling out her arm and showing me her inner elbow, it was dotted with puncture marks which almost resembled a rash.

"We do," I said with a laugh, before changing the subject and looking her in the eye, "you know, my father has plans for you too Cas."

She looked slightly shocked, "he does?"

I nodded, looking pleased with myself. I squeezed her hand a little and laughed,

"We're both really special Cassie! That's why he chose us,"

**May 8****th**** 2000  
7:00AM  
Umbrella Corporations, Racoon City Underground Laboratory  
**

Cassie's seven today, a whole three months after I turned eight. These two years have gone really fast, and the place almost feels empty now that she's gone. We were the best of friends until a week ago, when my father had her sent off to England. I overheard that her condition was worsening, and she could no longer contain the virus, and to be honest I noticed it in the way she was acting. Everything about her actions were filled with hate and anger, and even though I know we are both still really young, I know for sure anyone our age shouldn't be feeling like that.

From what I'm aware, she's been sent to England for more tests, maybe they'll help her, and they might give her some medicine. Then she can come back to us and we can carry on being the best of friends.

**February 24****th**** 2002  
2:09PM  
20 miles West of Racoon City**

I turned ten a few days ago, my father no longer has any use for me, he says my body has become immune and I am rejecting all of the different virus strands. So, he's sent me back to my mother. He told me that he never wanted to see me again, and that I was a big disappointment. I'm a possession not worth keeping. I never saw Cassie after the day they took her away from me, I don't even know if she's alive, and I doubt she's still thinking about me.

I've gotten myself a job in the local bar in my mother's village, playing the piano for the customers. After practicing for so long, I've actually gotten quite a good talent, so I'm really appreciative when I get given thanks and tips. The money's bad, barely enough for food and it's hard to get medication for my mother. We can't afford the health costs which would otherwise keep my mother healthy, but I'm trying my best to get us by. Still, it's not enough and I can barely get food on our plates.

I have to find a way to earn more money.

I love my mother, but I don't understand why she is still enamoured with my father, the man who abandoned us. To say I don't think highly of him is an understatement.

**August 2****nd**** 2007  
15:04  
N/A**

I've been working as a mercenary for just over 5 months now and the money is easy. Killing is almost satisfying but nothing brings a smile to my face more than seeing my mother on the road to recovery.

Another couple thousand to my name and all I had to do was wipe-out a small group of wrong-doers; rapists and thieves. Scum. I have enough money to get my mother the best possible medical care. Or rather, I could have. Sadly she left my life just under a week ago. I'm not sure why I'm still doing this, killing for money. I have nothing in this world but hate, perhaps it fills my empty void of a life, keeps me occupied.


	3. Perfection

**25****th**** October 2012  
12:00AM  
****Bluebell Wood****, ****Rhododendron Ave****, ****Kent, England.**

Midnight; the wind was wailing through the securely packed trees which were situated throughout the moon struck fields and woodlands in South Eastern England. It effortlessly wound its way through the separable branches which tenderly intertwined with each other. The moon was strung high in the deep blue, star-ridden sky, each light picking individual features on the plain grass and illuminating them brightly.

I stayed still, noiseless and invited the ominous silence in. My heart decelerated, almost to a stop, the dull hum of it in my ears quieting. Breath, shallow and slow. Blackness covers all I can see, all I can touch. I'm a true shadow and one heartless bastard.

All fell peaceful except for the droning mono-tone thud of the girls' heartbeat. It convulsed aggressively inside her chest and although I was nowhere near her yet, each shivering terrified breath she sucked down appeared as loud as a thunderstorm. Then I heard footsteps, she's running. The right foot seemed to be slacking, perhaps a twisted ankle. She was a mere 6 meters away from me; I had sight of her now, my prey. 5ft 5 about 8stone, blonde hair, hazel eyes and a bandage wrapped around her ankle, clearly an old injury playing up.

I let her pass me. To kill her now would be too easy, too unsatisfying. For the thrill was in the hunt, the passion was in the kill and the happiness in the money. All three will be fulfilled tonight. The wind rustled the blonde hair of the young girl who ran sluggishly, amidst the foggy clearing, wet grass slick to her bare legs. Sweat dripping down her face in a mechanical motion onto the damp ground below, tainted with the black of her make-up. The girls' hair hung down in clumps by her shoulders, matted and saturated. She was droning closer to the borderline of the clearing. The dark horizon swooped over her as she passed under the high undergrowth and out of the clearing.

I made my move. I pulled away from the shadows the forest had provided me and dashed across the clearing, she was slowing. Tired? Feeling safe? How naïve, best move little lamb.

*snap*

A twig shattered beneath my weight, _that_ got her moving. She was now heading north towards an abandoned house. Silly child, hiding will do you no good. You're my prey and you will be hunted.

The house was in sight, but before she could reach the wall that bordered the premises, I raised my pistol and aimed steadily. Without a moment's hesitation, my finger was on the trigger and tightening slowly, I could feel my grip on the weapon increasing.

Lead leapt from the barrel with a fiery inferno, lighting up my hand and vision momentarily before there was and searing flurry of hot pain across the back of my hand. The sound was loud, ear-piercing, and exciting. The power I gained from the thrill of a shot sent waves of satisfaction through my arms, resounding through my body and causing a smile to crack across my face, almost connecting it with the scar which trailed up my cheek.

My mind raced as I watched, almost in slow motion, as the bullet tore through the air, leaving faint trails of smoke and the wispy scent of gunpowder. It hurtled towards her, and almost in an instant, connected with flesh, blood and then bone. It ripped a clear path through the womans' achillies heel, sending it rupturing with an elastic like twang as it gave way under the immense pressure from the bullets entry and exit. She gargled out in a shrill scream and fell forwards, tripping over protruding branches and roots. Her face connected with the rustic red wall, its rough surface tearing away layers of her pristine skin as the force of her weight sent her colliding with the stone brickwork. As she slid to the floor in agony, a rose red trail of blood followed her face as it continued to scrape down the surface.

My shadow loomed over her as she sobbed and clutched her ankle, only looking up at me to see the barrel of my gun mere inches from the bridge of her nose. Her rasping breath got caught in her throat as she failed to cough up a plead for her life. Before the ruined face of the blonde haired woman could curl into any more of a scared emotion, her brains had been sent flying in every direction as my weapon unfurled another deadly shot.

I stood in silence, and watched as her body slumped to the sodden, leafy ground, blood pooling where it could around her. I still held my gun firmly, watching as smoke drifted calmly from the barrels end.

Euphoria. It seeped into my bloodstream and filled my satisfaction to the top. My heightened senses riveting with pleasure and relief. I needed this; it was what fuelled both my mind and my wallet. My mouth slid into another smile, this time more sinister, more revealing. This is what I was made to do, eliminate the ones who were in the wrong, not just for my own good, but for theirs.

I took my mobile from my pocket, slim and modern, I dialled a number. Holding the device to my ear, I listened to the dial tone. It droned out for some time before it began to ring, almost instantly, I was greeted by my client. The man on the other side of the line seemed to be pleased to have me ring, I spoke instantly.

"That crack-whore's dead. I want the money in my account within the hour," I almost spat down the phone, eager to hear a response.

"It's done," my client responded. The call ended with the push of a button, I placed the device back into my pocket and turned on the spot.

Without much thought of the dead body still lying, warm, on the forest floor, I headed back into the clearing, in the direction of the nearest town. I'll have to spend the night somewhere, maybe an Inn, and get cleaned up before I contacted the next client.

-:-

The entrance to the Inn was urban and dirty, the smell of cigarettes and vomit was thick in the air. The sounds of drunken laughter erupted from within the lobby, where a bar must have been. No thoughts as to who would be there, I walked in, sat down, and ordered a drink.

"Pint of lager," I murmured, looking at the bimbo bitch standing with a prominent attitude behind the bar, her legs parted and a hand on propped up on her hip. She eyed me up and down, sneering almost, batting her thick eyelashes at me and giving a minute pout. She maintained eye-contact as she reached up above the bar to retrieve a glass, obviously trying to make her breasts more potent to me. I nearly threw up. Does this filthy gonorrhoea ridden slut honestly think this is what I'm here to see? I'm a man of many needs, and right now, it's a pint of lager. Not a face full of fake tits.

Infact. I wasn't looking to be satisfied by any such need, until I saw her. The black hair, the green eyes, the same rosy red lips, petite and perfect.

Cassie.


	4. Passion

**25****th**** October 2012**

**1:02AM**

**The Rose Inn and Bar**

Cassie had a classy feel to the way she walked. She appeared sweet, innocent and high standard yet you could tell she had a dirty side. She didn't look slutty, but she certainly has seen a man or two. She had a natural C cup that she wasn't afraid to draw attention to that was easily the sexiest part of her body, next to her thighs. They were slim, but strong, the type of legs that are begging to be seen under a short dress or a skirt, and she played the look perfectly, she looked both inviting, yet cautious.

"What's your name?" I asked curiously.

"It's a secret." She smirked, daring for more attention.

During our conversation, she inched her way over to me. I looked her dead in the eye and told her,

"Let me make your night." She looked at me with a dead-serious stare. I gave her one right back, I gazed into her eyes. "Lead the way." She grinned.

I took her by the hand and took her to the room that I recently booked.

I've only known the _new _Cassie for about an hour and I was already feeling a connection to her. Her personality was exactly what I look for, classy, but with a dark side.

The conversation flowed easily and before I knew it, we had been talking for another hour and we killed about 6 shots of Vodka "You know I've been waiting for you to make my night." Cassie looked up wide-eyed as the sweet words left her rose-tint lips.

I looked into her eyes deeply and with a passion I believe she has never seen before, leaned my head in, and kissed her intensely. We ended up with both our arms around each other crammed on only a small section of such a large bed. We made out for about 20 minutes non-stop until we finally  
parted tongues. She quickly leaned her head in again, as though she was craving to be kissed again. I pulled my head back and observed her devotion to my tongue. I responded to her needs almost immediately. I gently leaned over her body with my own and pushed her onto her back into the bed as I did. She let out a strong breath that carried a weight of pure desire as she adjusted her head to a pillow and lifted my shirt over my arms.

Pressing my lips against hers again, I kissed her with a deep intensity. I drew my lips away from hers and began to kiss off to the side of her mouth. I slowly made my way down the side of her jaw and down the side of her neck, as she inhaled strongly, obviously enticed. I dragged my tongue down her collarbone, kissing my way down to her bra. At this point, she is taking off her skirt, unveiling a matching pair of panties to go with her black lace bra. As I'm kissing the top of her breast, she takes off her bra, allowing me to lick her nipples. I lick and kiss both nipples and enjoyed watching her squirm in ecstasy.

I continue down her body, onto her belly, still kissing her on the way down. Noticing her hands tightly grasping the sheets of this king size bed, my hand worked its way down to her thigh, warmly caressing her perfect body. I listened to her enticing moan as I lifted the top of her panties with tongue and grabbed a hold of the lace with my teeth. With a firm hold on the only thing preventing her from wearing nothing but heels, I tore off her panties with a haste that all men can understand in this situation. Deeply sighing as I exposed her entire body to new eyes, Cassie peered into me with a burning desire to allow me to continue into the sweetest of all parts of her body.

I kissed my way down to just before the top of her vagina. She was moaning in full throttle now, her breathing was noticeably heavier, gasping for breath on almost every moan. Without making any contact with her vagina, I stopped progressing down her body. Looking at me with a burning passion that cannot be expressed by words, she craved for me to do everything possible to her body. As if I was taunting her, I drew my body back and started my way back to her vagina from just north of knees. I quickly kissed and tongued my way up Cassie's inner thigh and finally into her vagina.

With my middle and index finger, I spread the lips of her vagina and went all out, I struck hard and fast, with incredibly powerful tongue-work, that made my mouth sore almost instantly and Cassie didn't make it a secret, her screams and moans rattled the room and echoed off the walls. I slid my arms underneath her ass and grasped her lower back firmly. With the added leverage, I pulled Cassie into me while pushing my face further into her; I was determined not to stop until she could feel my throat. That's when it happened; she screamed out, the whole house probably heard her. In a heartbeat, her body tensed up sharply and she quickly grabbed onto my arm and squeezed with the intensity of her shrieking, wet orgasm. That's when I felt it; she was a squirter and a screamer. She shot warm juices onto the edge of my bottom lip.

I pulled my tongue out of her vagina, my face is dripping wet. I swallowed strongly and looked into her eyes, "I'm not done and I'm not stopping until you can't stand." As I'm telling her this, I'm pulling my right hand out from underneath her and sliding it down her hips. She tries to speak, but is quickly silenced as I thrust 2 fingers into her. Remorselessly, I twist my fingers as I draw them out and thrust them back into the parts of her vagina my tongue was unable to reach. I pulled my left hand out from behind her to allow myself to re-adjust. I'm currently kneeling on a sheet where Cassie came, the sheets were saturated. With this new position, I was able to get Cassie to lift her legs up above me, so her thighs are now resting on my shoulder, with the rest of her legs wrapped around my upper back.

I found myself leaning over her body, practically laying on top of her while I drill my fingers deeper into her. She couldn't talk, every time she tried to say something, her breath would fall short and her words would turn into a loud moan. She was shaking and her hands were trembling, she kept trying to make out words with her lips but would fall short every time she tried to speak, it was like her throat was telling her not to distract me. I leaned in and placed my left hand underneath her head while I passionately kissed her lips. She responded immediately, grabbing the back of my head and pulling it in, viscously forcing her tongue into my mouth. She worked my tongue as if it were vengeance for orgasm earlier.

I eventually broke free of her erotic kiss with a deviate smirk on my face. I drilled deeper into her, as though I was trying to pass through the vaginal walls and reach into other parts of her body. She swiftly slid her hand down my pants. Things were about to get interesting.

Cassie was working on my belt as I was sitting right next to her pulling at the bottom of my jeans; she leaned over, gave up on pulling my pants off and rested her hand in my bare chest. Pushing me against the bed, she held both my wrists down as she threw her thigh over my body, riding just above my waist. I kicked off my jeans. She couldn't control her urge, I felt a quick cool air over where boxers used to be, followed by a warm breath and instantly, my 7 inch throbbing dick was in her mouth. Things started getting wet, again.

As Cassie suck hard on my dick, I was keeping her lust satisfied by thrusting my fingers in her again.  
Cassie was devoted towards making me cum, but I was not going to give up on giving her a third orgasm. Cassie placed both hands around the shaft; she knew what she was doing. I couldn't resist anymore. I leaned up, threw Cassie off me and viscously tossed my body at her.

Next thing I know, I'm laying on top of her, my dick is balls-deep in her vagina, and her chest is pressed up against mine with a tongue in my mouth. She slid one hand down to my hips and she began smacking my arse. Pressing my hands firmly on her thighs, I spread her legs outward and started drilling her harder and faster. At this point, we were both screaming and were ready to cum.

I couldn't hold it in anymore, my dick was swollen with cum and ready to burst open inside of Cassie. I could feel every wet, juicy thrust into Cassie's tight cunt. My face was turning red and I couldn't contain myself any further. I leaned in and passionately made out with Cassie. As always, she embraced aggressive tongue-play. However, just as I feel myself about to burst open, I felt the walls of Cassie's vagina tightening intensely. In unison we both came, her tongue instantly in my mouth. I decided not to pull out and we mutually agreed to just lay there with our tongues locked.

"Oh, and by the way, my name. It's Cassie." She smiled, dripping with sweat. "Yours?"

"Jake, Jake Muller."


	5. Truth

**25****th**** October 2012  
2:24AM  
The Rose Inn and Bar, Room 29**

She looked at me differently, her eyes hardening as much as her facial features. I felt her grip instantly tighten on my biceps, her mouth pulling into a tight frown. Something was wrong, didn't she recognise me? I knew her, surely she knew me? I could see from the way her body stiffened and she stopped panting that something was wrong, deadly wrong.

"_You're_ Jake Muller," She said under her breath, eyes scanning my face judgingly, "_you._"

I looked at her curiously, does this mean she's remembered me from our childhood… Or was this something a hell of a lot more extreme. I've been with my fair share of women, and this generally was not the reaction I got after telling them my name. I said nothing, and watched as the cogs clicked momentarily in her mind.

Her features grew dark, her complexion shaded and serious. She pulled away from me and stood at the edge of the bed, naked, and angry. At least, from how I had read the emotions of many of my victims and clients, she looked angry. Although I still knew not why.

"The information I recovered a few years ago," she growled, keeping her eyes on me as I stayed still on the bed, watching her just as solidly as she slid her clothes back on, "it was about you, I'm sure of it. Your surname wasn't the same, but from the descriptions, from what I was told, you are definitely who I think you are,"

I removed myself from the messed covers, still keeping eye contact as before. I put on my own clothes and held my place on the other side of the bed. Surely it was clear now of my profession; I was in mercenary uniform and the slightest dark stain of blood was on the left sleeve. My grazed my hand over my jaw and stared at the grimacing woman as she took in my glare and returned it heftily.

"Jake Wesker," she hissed suddenly, after a few moments of silence.

My face remained cool and collected, although I was moderately surprised that she remembered me.

"That's me," I said with a softer tone, expecting the woman to come hugging me in leaps and bounds, after remembering our childhood. I opened my arms in offering and watched as she stared at me for longer, her grimace growing more and more dark, her arms straight by her side and her hair unruly from the small episode we just unravelled on the bed between us.

Without warning, she leapt. And when I say leapt, I mean _leapt_. Straight over the bed, and into my arms. Not in the way you'd think though. She knocked me over, sending us both sprawling into an obviously weak minibar, which cracked and broke under our pressure, the bottles beneath giving way and spraying their contents in all directions. I could feel it seep through my jacket and shirt and into my skin, but that was the least of my worries.

What I was concerned about was the woman on top of me who help a sharpened hunting knife to my throat. She pressed it slightly against my neck, it dug slightly into the skin and a sharp shooting pain was sent instantly to my head. I tried not to swallow in favour of the knife digging in deeper, and tried to think of my close surroundings and how they would aid me.

Without thought, letting my assassin instincts come into order, I flipped the woman over so now I was on top of her. I snatched a partially smashed bottle from beside us and held it to her throat, only realising then that my weapons were stashed in small pouch on the beside cabinet. The woman growled from somewhere deeper than her throat, and was forced to drop her knife as I squeezed all circulation out of her hand.

"What are you _doing_?" I demanded in pure shock, "You know who I am, and after what we just _did_, I'm pretty much expecting a happy reunion hug or something like that. Not you trying to fucking stab me in the neck!"

I looked into the eyes of the frenzied woman, and what I saw was not the blossoming girl I remembered, I saw something much more sinister. Whatever was inside her was on the brink of release, and all of its dark, twisted energy was focused on me. Cassie's solid green eyes were intent with rage; hints of distant success and relief were imminent. She seemed unaware to the fact it's been almost a decade since we've seen each other, and whatever I did that really sent her knocking must have been bad, not that I remember it.

"What do you _want_, you fucking whore," I growled, returning what she did to me and driving the bottle to her neck, letting one of the spikes of glass pierce her skin without fail. She grimaced for a second, that spark of haunted desire flashing from her eyes and she realised I was as just as dangerous as she made out to be herself. I didn't think she knew that after working with the mercenaries for so long and loosing so many people, that I didn't care if I lost another.

I was trained to kill, trained to eliminate on command, and this woman wouldn't step in my way and make me change all that. Just because we knew each other from a childhood neither of us can probably recall much of, doesn't mean I'd put her above the rest.

Without warning, in one swift movement, one of her arms was slipped free of my grasp. She seemed not to care that the bottle would dig deeper with this action. Her hand balled into a fist and punted me across my face. I was a heavy man, so I didn't go flying off of her like in those cheesy movies; instead, I spat some blood out onto the stained cream carpets, and twisted my head back to see her recoiling for another hit. Just before she managed to hit me again I swerved around and jumped to my feet, pulling the aggressive bitch with me. I shoved her against the wall of our room, and watched as she winced in pain.

I shoved my hand around the womans bleeding neck and grabbed both wrists with my other hand and shunted both her arms to the side. Then, I thrust my side against her so she was unable to escape my weight on hers.

"Do you remember me," I spat mercilessly into her face, "or are you just a crazed bitch,"

She didn't respond, and from the glazed over look in her nonchalant dull green eyes, I could tell that she didn't remember. Whatever she was trying to kill me for, it certainly wasn't for a good old catch up. Her breath was hot on the hand I used to pin her neck up on the wall, she was rasping for breath and her eyes cold with detest.

"Well," She finally said, voice cracking instantly, "I'm obviously not going to beat you hand to hand, so I may as well tell you want I want from you."

"What you _want_ from me? Don't you _remember_ the childhood we spent together?"

Her eyes grew to an evil glare; she growled lowly and with a half-arsed sigh, began to talk.

"I remember _you_, Jake. I don't remember our childhood, I didn't want to remember. I was torn, used, broken and unwanted. I was sent away with so much disgust that the facility I was sent to didn't even want me. The test I was put through, the pain I endured. You wouldn't understand. I still carry the pain within me now, every day. It's eating me away, more and more. You have to understand, I didn't _want_ to remember. I don't want to be reminded constantly that I'm being eaten away every day. I'm a monster, and I'm becoming less and less human the longer I live,"

She stopped talking, staring me down mere inches from my face,

"What does that have to do with me, what do you want of me if you didn't want to remember your childhood?" I loosened my grip slightly on her neck, allowing her to speak with more ease.

"I need your blood, Jake. You're like the cure to my own twisted cancer. Infact, you _are _the cure to my deadly infection,"

"Want my blood, eh?" My mind clicked for a few moments, images of my sick mother bursting into my mind and the lust for money started to drive my words, "20 million for one syringe, 2ml. Now tell me why you want my blood,"

"20 million? You charge a high price, but yeah, you've got yourself a deal." She cleared her throat and continued, "As you know, we've both been through tests with different strands of the virus, and obviously our bodies dealt with them differently. You built up immunity, and my body created another being, which lies dormant inside me. It's like schizophrenia; there are two people inside me. Fighting to keep control, my sanity and my virus. Don't you worry you're pretty little wallet, it isn't going to be bursting from me any time soon, but each day that passes, my sanity gives in that little bit more and the virus fights for the reign of my body. It's taking me deeper into somewhere I don't want to be, each and every day that goes by."


	6. Travel

**25****th**** October 2012  
3:01AM  
The Rose Inn and Bar, Lobby**

The lobby was warm and dully lit, cosy. Yet, the vibes coming off this psycho bitch next to me were cold and extremely unwelcoming, she shook with anger so passionately that she seemed ready to combust. I watched her body movements intently not giving her any kind of chance to attack me again. Although I knew I was physically stronger than her, despite the weary ache which seeped through my muscles, I knew that she may prove some sort of threat. The way she fought back upstairs, she was quick and knew what she was doing, as if she had been trained. I noticed a bottle, which was within easy reach of her, so I moved it back and placed it on the bars edge besides me, closer to myself rather than her, I didn't want to run the risk of being bottled.

A shame such a beautiful woman with a fiery sex drive would turn out to be so hateful and so bipolar. She was perfect. Now I didn't want to be anywhere around this unstable cow. Whenever I looked at her, I saw past her attractive exterior and could see only her raging, livid interior; one I was positive I wanted to avoid. Whatever was making her boil with fury was certainly showing, her lip was profusely pouting and her arms folded solidly against her chest. Her normally innocent looking bambi-eyes were screwed into dagger-like squints which seemed to pierce everything she stared at. Her dainty brows furrowed, shadowing her dull eyes.

The room fell into an unnerving silence and as I looked around, still looking at Cassie out of the corner of my eye. I noticed everyone was looking up at the flat screen TV placed up on the dark orange wall, adjacent to the pool tables. Their faces curved into drunken frowns as they tried to take in the information being passed onto them. The black box was glowing, flashes of what looked amateur videos rushing across the screen; some kind of riot in London?

The young blonde anchor then popped back up onto the screen the next words that came out of her mouth were somewhat a bother.

_Various outbreaks of what we are calling the 'C-virus' have begun appearing all over the country, most cases have been found within London. The first outbreak was documented over a week ago a 38 year old man was complaining of painful stomach cramps followed by headaches and a fever. He was announced dead after 13 hours of being admitted into hospital. Since this occurrence over 1000 other incidents have been released about the virus, the same symptoms are being noted as of yet no further deaths. Victims appear to have become enraged and seem to be fuelled by anger. Do not approach anyone you believe has been infected, we advise that you stay in your homes. We are yet to know whether or not the virus is airborne, but for safety precautions we advise masks. Scientists are saying it's fast spreading and very aggressive. They also say they are trying their best to make a cure, though, have yet to have been successful. _

"Great," I uttered almost annoyed that I now have to not only watch my back with this untameable child but also watch out for crazy ass infected.

Suddenly, after a few moments of forgetting that there were other people seeing this report too, I turned to see a frenzy of moderately drunk people flurrying around the lobby, smashing bottles, knocking over tables and screaming. Even that skanky bitch from behind the bar was joining in, a terrified look spread across her silicone face.

Cassie turned to me, looking subtly less pissed than before, instead replacing the emotion with some amusement. As if she drew some form of entertainment from seeing these people panic. We stood together, quiet, sending glances between each other, as the whole bar and lobby erupted into a riot of screaming and frenzied people, pushing each other and rushing for the exit. Amusingly, some still stopped to finish the pint they'd already started, before joining the others and fleeing the building.

After the commotion had occurred, just I and Cassie stood in the Bar. The place was a mess, tables were broken and thrown across the room, glasses were smashed, drink everywhere, and some people even left their belongings behind. I turned my attention back to Cassie; she started gingerly rubbing at her neck, and removed her hand only to see that there was fresh blood trickling down from her fingertips to her palms. There was a _lot_ of it.

"Still hurting are we?" I remarked sarcastically, grinning. I watched as she sent me a glare which could have killed a young child and laughed, "Really? Going to start sulking now?"

"Fuck off." She spat, turning her back on me and strutting off to the entrance of the Inn.

I laughed again, "I take that as a yes, then."

As she walked away, in a slight strop, my eyes drifted down to her arse. The way she walked with slight wiggle accentuated her tight, firm cheeks. I felt the blood rush from my head and down to somewhere I didn't really want it to go at this point in time. Oh, fuck men's inevitable ability to constantly think about sex.

How the fuck am I still attracted to this woman? Not only did she try to kill me, but she wasn't letting go of some kind of anger that was dwelling deep within her heart. It's probably only because we literally had sex less than an hour ago, but surely I could now tell the difference between a real sexual attraction and just the lust of fucking.

When we stepped out into the cold, breezy morning, I decided it was best we started moving, straight away. Without saying a word to Cassie, I wandered over to a small car and elbowed the passenger window with such a force that it shattered immediately, just before I leant into the car to unlock it from the inside, I heard Cassie cough to get my attention. I withdrew myself from the window and turned to her, only to see her holding a pair of car keys in the air with one hand.

"You know, I have got a car," She remarked patronisingly, letting the keys swing around the fingers, "we don't have to take that dingy looking thing."

"Oh right," I murmured, leaving the car and following the woman to her own. She unlocked the beast and I stared in awe at a red Lamborghini. What kind of woman could afford a car like this on the salaries they get paid, not unless she had a husband? Which I surely hoped she didn't, and doubted massively, considering the woman was only 19.

We stood by the vehicle, and I held my palm towards the woman with expectancy. I was going to be driving this thing.

"Hand me the keys, let a man drive,"

She looked mortified.

"You want _me_ to let _you_ drive my car? Get real."

Before I could respond with a hefty comeback, she slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. Growling to myself, I climbed into the passenger seat and a little part of my male dominance slowly crumbled away. I didn't bother saying a word or making any form of eye contact as I buckled my seatbelt and let the _woman_ drive. Still though, it confused me how Britain drove on the other side of the road to us Americans. So thinking about it, it was probably best that I didn't drive. She undoubtedly knows these roads better than me, too.

"You do know how to get to London, right?" I asked after a few moments.

She turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life, then she looked at me as she forced the car into gear.

"I'm not an idiot. We're heading to the Umbrella facility in west London; I know where I'm going. I've been to and from that place so many times that I know the route better than any GPS."

"Fair enough," I said, sinking back into the leather seat and saying nothing more. I let the woman pull out from the car park and start down the dark tarmac road. I used these first moments of relaxation to actually realise how much I ached. From head to toe was the dull throb of my pulse, beating into me slowly but surely. It was like, by sitting down, I'd finally let all the movements and exhilaration leave me, so all that remained was a tired and worn body.

After a while of driving, around twenty minutes down the road, I sat up. In the distance, at the edge of the path was a woman. I recognised her from somewhere. I ushered Cassie to slow down as we approached, and just as I realised who it was I called for her to stop.

"Cassie, pull over, now."

"What? Are you crazy, she could be infected. There's no point,"

"Just do it!"

"No!"

Snapping slightly, I leant over and grabbed the steering wheel, yanking it to the left and sending the car veering off the road. Cassie yelled out as the monster of a car screamed its way over path and grass, throwing us in every direction. Suddenly, we slammed into a tree, the bonnet of the supercar bowing furiously sending our faces plummeting into both the wheel and the dashboard, the airbags for some reason, not deploying. The seatbelt seemed absolutely shit too. I could feel the blood rushing to my forehead, and I looked over groggily at Cassie to see the woman knocked out, face and neck covered in her own blood.

She appeared dead.


End file.
